Like In The Movies
by I Write Sins Not Tragidies
Summary: One-Shot. She was just like her. And sometimes it was so hard. Rated T for some sexual mentions.


**Wrote this a while ago and never got to posting it. Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Degrassi, Eli wouldn't be scary and Sav would still be with Holly J.**

Sav shuffles down the stairs, wiping his eyes. He was 26 now, a just-getting-started record producer.

He glances at the couch as he steps onto the last step, where she sleeps.

She looks just like her. She had her auburn hair. He pale skin, dotted with freckles here and there. She was just like… her. From her long eyelashes to her perfect toenails.

Except for one thing.

Her eyes. She had his eyes. His chocolate brown eyes.

His daughter, as cheesy as it sounds, his daughter was dropped off at his doorstep one night, when he was a freshman in college. It was a quiet night, the warm April air perfect for hanging out with friends. Except for him, of course.

Sav was studying for… was it his… Economics exam? Maybe. Probably. Yes, he was studying for his Economics exam when the door on his apartment was knocked on.

"One minute." He called out distractedly, not looking up from his textbook. After he finishes his paragraph, he marks his page with his highlighter and makes his way to the door. But, when he opened it, he was surprised to see what he did.

A small baby, no older than a month or two, lays in a medium sized cardboard box. Along with her was a large manila envelope. He squatted down and picks it up, unbending the hooks and peering inside.

There were a bunch of official-looking documents. He slides them all out, and what drops on the floor next to him was a small, yellow post-it-note.

He snatches it up gingerly, and lifts it up to his eyes.

_She's yours. _It read._ From that night. I'm so sorry, but I couldn't handle keeping her or giving her up for adoption to some random stranger. So I thought of you. Please, love her. She's the best baby in the world._

_ I will come back to see her again. I promise._

It wasn't signed off, but he knew who it was, especially as he looked in the cardboard box at the baby so carefully wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket.

Sav drops the note back in the envelope, along with the rest of the documents that seemed to be birth certificates and such, tucks it under the crook of his arm, and lifts the box into his chared apartment, wondering what the two boys he shares it with will think when they find a baby when they come back.

He hasn't heard from her since. He misses her so much. The girl who helped him creat his beloved daughter.

The girl who he hasn't yet gotten over, even after all these years.

He doesn't know how he expects to hear from her. Email? Probably. Phone? Does she even know his number? Probably. She did get into Yale, after all.

Would she come to his house? He wasn't so sure that she would actually get it touch at all, let alone come to his house. Knowing her, he'll probably get an email from the address he looks for every time he gets a chance, as if his life depended on it. But it sort of did.

He and his daughter were getting along as just the two of them just fine, but he knew. He knew by the look in her eyes, when he's the only father at her classes Mother's Day party comes up, or when her friend's mom comes to pick her up for a play date. He knows. He knows she needs a mother. Because he knows his daughter.

His daughter.

She was 7, and turning 8 in a few days. She was so excited. He had to promise her the biggest slumber-party ever (only 5 girls. He's only one guy, even if Alli promises to stop by.) to get her off his back about it.

She was so much like her. Her determination, even her stubbornness, reminded him or her every day. He's learned to cope with it, but sometimes it's _so hard_.

Sav contemplates waking his daughter up. He wasn't exactly sure how she got down here, anyway. She was fast asleep on the couch, a bright pink comforter draped on top of her. He brings the blanket t her chin, the way she likes it. He wanted her to smile or something, like in the movies, but she doesn't; she just lies there. He's not surprised. If life was like in the movies, his daughter's mother would have came running back years ago. If life was like in the movies, his daughter wouldn't be without a mother.

He warms up a mug of coffee in the microwave, and begins sipping on it. It was Wednesday. He had to get his daughter to school soon. But for now, he was just going to let her sleep. And, after dropping her off, he's going to work. It's a constant cycle these days; wake up; drink coffee; drop off; work; home; dinner; sleep.

He was just going to wake her when the doorbell rings. He wonders who was there at such an early hour, and why. But, not bothering to put down the coffee warming his hands, he answers.

It was a girl. Well, a young woman, actually. Thick, waving, auburn hair, reaching a little past her shoulders. Jeans. Blouse. Nice boots. Grey-ish blue eyes, filled with happiness and hopefulness.

It was her.

"Sav." She speaks very quietly and hoarsely, maybe even a bit sadly.

"Holly J."


End file.
